


Until The Last Star Blows Out

by danqueray



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, Teacher!Dan, Teacher!Phil, teacher!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 18:08:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8906632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danqueray/pseuds/danqueray
Summary: Phil, a new English teacher in a school that’s perhaps a bit too posh for him. Put him in a room for a week with his newly formed best friend, the Art teacher Dan Howell, and add the feelings of love and fear of rejection and perhaps the over zealous Louise, relationships bloom in strings of blue and purple paint, and red and violet clichés and poems strewn from constellations above.





	

The dream had always been to inspire, yet the constant overload of work soon took a toll on Phil and forced his aspirations elsewhere, leaving him pushing the glass double-doors of perhaps the poshest high school he’d ever set foot in - or seen for that matter.

“I’m Philip Lester.” He’s almost afraid to touch any surface, everything newly polished and pristine and he can only think what germs grace the pads of his fingers.

“The headmaster is in his office, please do go in.” The lady’s friendlier than Phil thought, although he wasn’t sure what he was expecting; perhaps the horrors of his previous school are a tale for another day and certainly don’t extend to here. Phil’s hands start to tremble and he can’t quite figure out why. It isn’t as if he is generally an anxious person, but here he is having to will himself not to tap his feet as he knocks on the door. It’s a hesitant second as he opens the door, polished leather shoes clacking on the wooden floor, echoing through the corridors.

“Ah Mr. Lester, welcome!” He’s greeted with a warm smile, yet his eyes aren’t entirely focussed on the slightly greying man before him, instead on the younger man beside. “This is Mr. Howell, he’s joining the Art department.” Phil takes a seat beside the brunet, desperate for his eyes not to wander on his almost ethereal features.

“You can call me Dan.” His voice is like silk and his hand is soft, and Phil thinks with his Asda shirt he’s most certainly out of place compared to the sharpness of Dan’s suit.

“Phil.”

The meeting is less formal than Phil had imagined, ending up with jokes exchanged between Dan and himself, and despite the very obvious differences he can’t overlook the similarities between them. Dan’s hair is not dissimilar to his, although instead of a coal-black it’s a warm brown with the fringe to the left. He learns Dan’s left-handed and would choose painting over drawing any day, and that they share most of the same likes and dislikes. Phil thinks finding a friend in Dan wouldn’t go a miss as the brunet asks him to join him for lunch in the dining hall.

“So did your last school have facilities like this?” Dan’s halfway through his jacket potato when he speaks with a smile.

It takes Phil a moment to reply, too caught up in shy glances at the man before him. “No. We had a canteen but-” He pauses for a giggle. “It wasn’t exactly the cleanest place in the world I must admit.”

“Sounds like my old school, paint smeared on the walls and kids trying to stab each other with craft knives, a dream to teach.” Somehow the words barely register in Phil’s mind and all he can hear is Dan’s voice.

 

 

It’s six-am when he wakes up, stumbling over to the kitchen for any sort of liquid energy. He’s not due to start work until eight, but he has a gut feeling something will go wrong. By the time he’s made his coffee he’s already put far too much milk in and burnt his hand, and he’s sure if this is any indication on the coming day it’s not going to be a good one. It takes three tries for his car to start and by then it’s far too late to grab some breakfast from Tesco. He does however manage the drive without any disasters and quickly finds Dan looking as lost as he is.

“Hi Dan.” Phil waves causing Dan to giggle.

“Hi.” Dan stuffs his planner in his bag and walks over to Phil, smile never faltering from his lips. “As you can tell I’m lost.”

“A1? I think I saw that down here.” Phil points to the corridor on the left, and thinks he could spare a moment to help Dan find his classroom.

“Holy shit this is gorgeous.” Dan’s eyes blow wide before he snaps a hand over his mouth, a rose blush staining his cheeks. “Didn’t mean to swear.” It’s muffled by his hand and Phil can’t help but chuckle - fuck he’s cute.

“I’ll leave you to it then, good luck!” Dan thinks Phil has a smile which could turn anyone into a puddle.

“Thank you, you too!”

-

A term had flown by, leaving Dan and Phil with tired eyes and shaky hands from the coffee they constantly drink as if it’s the only thing keeping them going - and perhaps it is, or perhaps it’s the fact that every day they get to see each other, and there hasn’t been a single day where they haven’t.

“We have this trip thing next week in London.” Dan mumbles, opening up a new tab on his laptop and his fingers type out Tumblr. “Year tens.” Phil wants to laugh at Dan; his glasses sit askew on his face and his hair is curling, paired with puffy eyes and a pout upon his lips.

“I think I fell asleep in briefing this morning.” Phil giggles, shuffling on the sofa. The staffroom, although a little big, has almost become their second home. There would never be a lunch or free period where Dan and Phil weren’t tucked away in the corner, laughing at some stupid joke or post on Tumblr.

“I think they’re putting the dorm lists up tomorrow so good luck with that!” Dan erupts in laughter as Phil pulls a face, swatting the younger man with the back of his hand playfully.

“You could end up sleeping with Mr. Gregory.”

“You’re making it sound like I’ll have sex with him Phil! And now I have a horrific image in my head.” It’s Phil who bursts out laughing at that.

“Okay, okay sorry.” Both men are left the with remnants of lazy laughter as the bell rings for the fifth period. “Have fun with the year thirteens.” Phil winks, knowing that particular class isn’t exactly Dan’s favourite. Dan mouths a discrete “fuck off” before walking past Phil and lightly punching his arm. Phil doesn’t think he’ll ever get over Dan’s smile.

 

 

“Mr. Howell?” A girl asks, a year nine in Dan’s art class.

“Yes Eleanor?” Dan walks over to her and immediately notices her friends giggling beside her.

“Are you and Mr. Lester dating?” The question sends a chorus of gasps echoing in the room but Dan just chuckles and shakes his head, hoping the blush on his cheeks is barely noticeable.

“No, we’re just friends.” Dan starts back to his desk, fingers stalling over painted canvases. “Jake what’s this?” He picks one up and stares at the blonde-haired boy.

“You two seem cute and I-” Dan mutters and “oh my god” before placing the ever-so-obvious painting of him and Phil back on the pile. It gains a fleeting smile which toys on Dan’s lips before he sits back down on his seat and resumes typing.

“No more Mr. Lester, unless I say so.” He huffs; eyes never leaving his ever-expanding word document of reports and that’s all he seems to be doing - reports and marking, all the while thinking of Phil.

“But Mr. Howell you have to admit you would look really cute together.” This time Dan can’t fight back the smile which leaves dimples in his cheeks.

“Right all of you get back to work.” There’s a glint in Dan’s eye which everyone, students and staff alike, seem to notice at every mention of Mr. Lester.

 

 

“I heard Mr. Howell and Mr. Lester are dating!” Alice announces a bit too loudly in Phil’s English class.

“We are not dating.” Phil clarifies as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose before writing the homework on the whiteboard.

“I bet they are, they never leave each other’s sides, besides have you seen the way Mr. Howell looks at him?” She says quieter, although quite enough for Phil to hear.

“We’re just friends Alice.” Phil pops the cap on the pen and albeit throws it on the wooden desk with a clatter.

“That’s what Mr. Howell said yesterday.” Eleanor giggles, with far to much emphasis on every second word for Phil’s liking. They know it’s childish, but it’s painfully obvious the two teachers harbour feelings for each other.

“You asked him yesterday?! What did he-” He cuts himself off, aware that thirty eyes are on him and with the coming words it will certainly be obvious that he likes him. “I don’t want to hear Mr. Howell’s name uttered in the classroom for the rest of the lesson or else I’ll make you stay behind, am I clear?” Phil can’t help chuckle as they groan in protest.

“But sir are you aware you two are sharing a room next week?” Phil’s eyes widen. He makes a mental note to go straight to the pin board in the staffroom to check the dorm arrangements for the trip next week to London. All it takes is one glare and not another sound is made from any of the students, allowing Phil to let them out five minutes early for lunch.

He staggers to the pin board and in bold letters are Philip Lester and Daniel Howell side by side. Phil has to fight the smile on his lips as he sees Dan walk in.

“Is this the room arrangements?” Dan hums. “God I hope I’m not with-” He stifles an obvious bout of glee in the form of a squeal.

“Well, could’ve been worse.” Phil decides to hide his smile behind an obvious pretend yawn.

“I am stuck with you for a week, not sure how much worse that could get.” Phil’s eyes are immediately drawn to the smirk which helplessly tugs at the corners of Dan’s lips.

“Oh really?” He can’t help his own lips curl into a smirk.

-

Phil hates packing, and although it’s a harmless trip to London and he’ll most likely be sharing a room in the poshest hotel with Dan, he still hates the thought. He hates deciding what to pack - not that he’ll be wearing the majority of it anyway - and he hates the thought of a whole year group teasing him about Dan. Phil just about manages another shirt before he sits on his case in an attempt to do it up, and it’s times like this he really wishes he didn’t live alone. His phone starts to vibrate in his pocket, sending him tumbling to the floor in a mixture of laughter and agony as his elbow smashes against the wooden frame of his bed. After a string of curses he answers it, smiling as he sees the name glow in white on his screen.

“Hi Dan,” Phil gets up and sits on his bed, wincing as it creaks beneath his weight.

“What are you packing I need to know I don’t even think I have half of this!” Dan’s fretting lets a giggle tumble Phil’s lips.

“Calm down Dan, I just packed a few jeans, t-shirts, couple of fancy shirts, a suit and-” He’s cut off by the sound of hangers dragging against a rail, and Dan muttering something like “why do I not understand what these fucking words mean?!”.

“Dan you’ll be fine, you have me.” It turns into more of a question than the intended statement, yet Dan can’t help but smile as he tosses a pair of black jeans in his suitcase. “You drink right?” Dan hums a response, nodding his head despite knowing Phil can’t see. “Good because you’re in for a treat.”

-

It turns out five-am starts have never been Dan’s thing, especially when all he can think about is spending the next five days in a room with Phil. He loads his bag in his car not before at least two cups of coffee and in hindsight, it probably wasn’t the best idea as his already thirty minute journey is delayed a further five minutes as he stops off at the nearest garage. He finds that Three Cheers is too loud and he’s hardly in the mood for Muse, so he settles on Pretty. Odd. He finds himself absentmindedly humming along as he pulls into the car park, and it’s not long before he’s grabbed his things and walked over to Phil.

“Looking forward to it?” Dan doesn’t think he’s ever been colder, and he can’t help his teeth chatter or his hands to shiver.

“It’ll be nice, and I do want to see the lights in London at this time of year, who knows they may have the decorations up already.” Phil wants to wrap his arms around Dan and pull him close, he doesn’t of course but he offers his coat which Dan politely declines.

The sun decides to peak behind the clouds as they board the bus, Dan and Phil taking the first two seats as the teenagers race to the seats at the very back.

“Dan you look tired.” Phil whispers, and it’s just that bit harder to hear his words as the students chatter and shout behind them. “Can you all be quiet?!” He albeit shouts, silencing them immediately. “Sleep Dan.” It’s almost comical how his voice can change within seconds, from strict to soft whenever he talks to Dan. All Dan can do is nod sleepily, the low after his caffeine rush hitting him much sooner than he expected and he soon lets his eyes flutter shut as the soft sounds of the engine lull him into sleep. Phil plugs his earphones in his ears, smiling as Dan’s head rests on his shoulder and he’s not sure if he’s ever been this in love. It seems as if the students notice Dan’s position, as the giggles grow louder as he snuggles closer. Phil resists the urge to kiss Dan’s head; instead, he turns his head to the giggling teenagers and shoots them a glare, harsh enough for anyone to promptly turn the other way. The bus is filled with silent whispers and Phil knows all eyes are on him and Dan, but frankly he doesn’t care. He slings an arm around the brunet, pulling him closer and watches as his eyes flutter slightly before giving up and sleep takes him.

“Dan.” Phil whispers, pushing back Dan’s falling fringe from his eyes. “We’re almost here.” It seems as if the majority of the students have mirrored Dan, slumped up against shoulders and windows with closed eyes and parted mouths, snoring softly against the hum of the engine.

“Sorry.” Dan quickly shuffles away from Phil, realising that perhaps he’d fallen asleep a bit too close to comfort. The rain has started and is hammering down, and it feels a little cosier than before (and Dan’s sure he could stay like this for a while).

“No need to apologise, if I’m a good pillow by all means take advantage of my squishiness.” He chuckles quietly, not daring to wake any of the sleeping students. Dan rolls his eyes but slumps back on Phil, increasingly aware of both heartbeats speeding up. 

 

 

“I knew it would be posh but- fuck.” Dan lifts his suitcase off of the marble floor; scared the worn wheels would scratch the surface. “If this is the lobby what will our room look like?” Phil likes the way Dan says “our” although it should be insignificant and not a thought further given, yet the word sticks i. his mind in crystal blues and shimmering golds. Phil just nods, more in awe of the stars in Dan’s eyes as he stares at the decor, than the place itself.

“Should we put our things in our room? I think Louise and that are sorting out the students.” Phil smiles, remembering Louise’s “advice” on how to get Dan to fall as hard for him as he has, although he thinks her efforts are wasted and it’ll never happen.

“Even the buttons are posh bloody hell.” Dan pulls the sleeve of his jumper over his finger to press the button to the twentieth floor. Judging by the lobby and the lift, Phil expects scenic views of the London skyline and he’s hardly disappointed. The walls are tinted rose and gold and the floor is dotted with plants in copper pots, and Phil doesn’t think it can get much more beautiful. The door is unlocked with a mint-green key card and neither can believe the size of the room, furnished with a sofa, tv and a king-sized bed.

“Dan?” Phil stifles a giggle as Dan flops on the overly large bed. “There is only one bed.” Dan rolls his eyes, not making any efforts to move and soon his head is on the pillow and he’s rolled onto his side, patting the spot next to him.

“Doesn’t matter, not like we’re going to fuck or anything.” Dan mumbles, and Phil’s thankful the younger’s eyes are shut as he feels a blush rise on his cheeks and a smile tug at his lips as the word “fuck” almost innocently rolls of off Dan’s tongue.

“We’ve got to be downstairs in an hour.” Phil lays down, head inches away from Dan’s and he suddenly becomes aware of how close they are, and how close his lips are from Dan’s and how if he just had the courage, he could press them together.

Dan hums a response, shuffling slightly before drawling out a sigh. Phil resists the urge to push his fringe from his eyes and kiss the tip of his nose as his face contorts into a frown.

“You can use me as a teddy if you need.” Phil chuckles as Dan’s arm rests perfectly in the curve of his waist and perhaps they’re too close to be simply colleagues or friends, but it’s a closeness which leaves both wishing for more.   
“I’ll wake you up in an hour.” Phil whispers, placing a hesitant hand over Dan’s waist as the brunet’s head rests on his chest.

-

It ends up with them a few steps behind, admiring the lights and decorations and the displays in the shop windows. They’re close enough for people to question, but they’re far to engrossed in their own world of video games and how Dan thinks watercolours are far better than acrylics, and how Phil prefers the tap of keys to the scratch of pen on paper. Neither mention about earlier, how their legs ended up tangled and how their breathing matched as their fingers intertwined.

“Come on you two!” Louise giggles, shouting from the front as they walk through a surprisingly empty Oxford Street. Dan shouts an apology back, a rich smile plastered on his face and Phil can’t help but stare.

“Where are we even going?” Dan chuckles, realising he has no clue about their destination or why he’s wearing a shirt which certainly wouldn’t be out of place on a mannequin in the most prestigious department store.

“We’re seeing a show you spoon.” Phil giggles; throwing his head back as Dan playfully swats his arm.

“I hate you.” He mumbles; it’s a complete contradiction, and perhaps “I love you” would be more fitting.

They try and keep up, and Dan voices his disgust as both Phil and Louise suggest McDonald’s for lunch. Phil reminds him he could be stuck with Mr. Gregory and it turns out wiping sticky fingers from the tomato sauce on Phil’s cheek doesn’t seem so bad after all. Louise’s subtly is laughable with “I’ll just see if everyone’s alright” followed by a pronounced wink which flushes both Dan and Phil bright red, leaving their cheeks stained pink throughout the whole meal.   
Dan catches two students, Holly and Emily, glancing over at their table with wide smiles as high-pitched giggles, and he thinks perhaps his subtly should be the one in question.

“I’ll clear up, you both sit down - a grown woman can manage!” They chuckle as Louise pushes their litter onto a tray, stopping to tell a few students off who poured salt on their table and dared each other to lick it off.

“I feel out of place in this.” Dan tugs at the hem of his monochrome shirt.

“You and me both.” Phil can’t help but smile as their eyes catch, and if it isn’t for the fact they have twenty teenagers surrounding them, he might’ve mustered up enough courage to lean in and kiss him. 

 

 

“Have you ever been here before?” Phil shakes his head; hands in pockets as he kicks a stone, the corners of his lips curling upon hearing Dan shout at the same group as Louise had before.

“Funnily enough I went with my school in year nine.” It’s small talk which fills the air as the students file in and all Dan wants to do is pull Phil to the side and watch as his hand cups his cheek and he leans in, lips lightly brushing which he’s sure would leave vibrant blushes on his cheeks, and maybe one day he’ll be brave enough.

Dan can’t help ghost the pads of his fingers over the wood, and he thinks the golden hue of the building is somewhat entrancing. He stifles a laugh as Phil trips down stairs, gripping tightly onto his hand and it just feels so right.

“Right you two sit there,” Louise points to the corner of the allocated seats. “And I’ll be over here.” She perches on the end of a few rows in front after pointing to the direction of the toilet for a group of girls.

“This is nice.” Phil thinks aloud and Dan can help raise his eyebrow. “I mean doing something other than teach.” Dan swears he can see Phil blush but as the lights dim he can only put it down to wishful thinking.

They laugh until their stomachs hurt and not once do they care about anything other than enjoyment. It’s over far too soon and as the students line up, two seem to have disappeared.

“Oscar and Matthew? Where are they?” Phil furrows his eyebrows, counting the teenagers again before his eyes flick back to the register.

“I think they went to the toilet.” One of Louise’s tutees, Hannah, pipes up proudly, and it’s not long before they come dawdling back only to be faced with an angry Louise and an unimpressed Phil, but somehow Dan finds hilarity in the situation and lets a giggle fall through the barrier of his chapped lips.

“Oh god this is more work than I imagined.” Phil sighs, watching as Dan’s breath forms swirls in the crisp air.

“You’re responsible for so many people Phil, how can you cope?!” Dan mock-gasps in horror, failing halfway through as he erupts in laughter which not even Phil can hold back on.

 

 

They’re thankful they’re not required for the duration of the night, with the exception of dinner at eight and Dan’s insistent he’ll wear his fancy shirt more times this week than he’s ever done, to which Phil laughs and throws a pillow at his head, rolling on to his side and groaning as Dan attempts to pull him up. As soon as Phil says they’re visiting an art gallery tomorrow all Dan can do is gush about his favourite artists and how each piece tells a story, and how his dream was to always produce art worthy enough to be placed in a gallery.

“I bet it’s amazing, more than worthy.” Phil replies, hands laced under his head as his back hits the bed.

“I haven’t ever submitted anything.” Dan runs a hand through his wet hair and promptly reaches for the hairdryer, mumbling something about Phil seeing his hobbity mess.

“You should, and leave your hair for tonight, do it in the morning.” Dan doesn’t particularly have the energy to argue so instead he grabs a towel and attempts to dry his hair.

That night Phil falls asleep with Dan’s breath tickling the nape of his neck, just willing for his lips to touch his skin as his arms wrap around his waist - it doesn’t however.

-

Dan wakes with a yawn, skin sleep-soft and eyes half lidded as he trudges to the bathroom, desperate not to wake Phil. His hair’s dishevelled and curlier than usual, and he plugs in the straighteners, humming a quiet tune as he waits for them to heat up. Phil’s not long to follow, stomping to the bathroom with heavy footsteps as he lazily shoves Dan out of the room so he can use the toilet. Of course Dan doesn’t mind, and in all honesty he’d much prefer to laze in bed with Phil than to flatten his hair every few seconds as the wind stains his cheeks pink and chaps his lips.

“You going t'nerd on me today Dan?” Phil just about mumbles as he pokes a toothbrush around his mouth, foaming with blue and white toothpaste.

“I’ll try not to.” He chuckles, shoving his phone in the pocket of his jeans before slipping on his black coat.

“For an art teacher I’d thought you’d wear a bit more… colour.” Phil muses, patting his mouth with the ivory towel and proceeds to walk out of the bathroom and slip on his shoes, the urge to kiss Dan greater than ever and it almost makes his skin ache. Dan rolls his eyes, unlocks the door with a click and ushers Phil through. He mumbles a “shut up” before locking the door and bounding over to Phil’s side, waiting for the lift.

“I actually hate lifts.” Dan has to stop himself from clutching onto Phil’s arm as he steps in. Instead, he clutches the polished brass rail around the middle of the lift walls until his knuckles turn white.

“We can next the stairs next time.” Phil shuffles closer; wrapping an arm around his waist as reassurance and is quick to pull away as they step out, faced with the same twenty teenagers as the day prior, and a very restless Louise.

“There you two are! Right, Dan take this,” She shoves a clipboard and pen in his hands, and then to Phil and perhaps Dan could’ve gotten away with not straightening his hair properly after all.

 

 

“Oh my god Phil, look at this!” Dan albeit runs (as best as he can in an art gallery) towards a painting. To Phil it’s nothing more than hues of green and blue and red, yet to Dan it seems to be more. “Doesn’t it remind you of Monet?” Phil nods, not quite understanding yet all he can think of is how gorgeous Dan is when the passion lies within his eyes, and almost illuminates his skin under the bright, artificial lights of the gallery.   
“And this is just beautiful!” Phil doesn’t think he’s ever seen Dan so alive, and makes a mental note to slip into the art department when Dan stays behind to watch him work.

“Am I being stupid or is this stupid?” Phil points to a seemingly empty canvas titled “Dream”.

“Modern art, and yes very stupid.” Dan agrees, stopping himself before he hooks his arm around Phil’s, tucked into the pockets of his duffle coat.

Phil doesn’t hesitate to scold a group of boys who decide that perhaps touching the sculptures is a good idea which earns a shy giggle from Dan and a small “thank you”, and in turn Phil can’t stop the blush rise on his pale cheeks.

 

 

Louise makes an effort to have Dan and Phil seated next to each other at dinner.

“I thought I was going to get a break from having to see your face!” Dan whines, the grin on his lips making it almost impossible for him to take a sip of water without it spilling all over his shirt - and it does.

“You’re such a clutz.” Phil hands him a napkin, giggling as Dan all but growls and weakly throws it back at him.

“Wouldn’t have spilled it if I weren’t distracted by your face.” He mumbles, and Phil pretends to ignore it, deciding it wasn’t meant for his ears and he should perhaps not question it. Dan’s cheeks are flushed red and it seems as if all of their colleagues’ eyes are on his now damp shirt and his clearly embarrassed face.

“Ooh this looks nice!” Phil pipes up as the waitress places his plate in front of him. It’s an attempt to dissolve the thick silence between them but it doesn’t shift.

Dan eats his dinner without so much as another word and Phil can’t help but think he said something to offend him.

 

 

“Dan are you alright? Sorry about calling you a clutz, I really didn’t mean it.” Dan feels the bed dip beside him as a tentative hand is placed on his shoulder. All Dan can do is shake his head and close his eyes. He could flinch away, but he doesn’t, and Phil takes it as a good sign. Dan sighs, the corner of his mouth twitching as Phil lays down, head sharing the same pillow as Dan’s and it’s as if time is a mere concept, one which is built of glass and is instantly shattered as his arm rests on the curve of Dan’s waist and pulls him close.

“What’s wrong?” Phil mumbles softly, lips brushing against Dan’s hair as he speaks.

“Nothing.” Dan can’t tell him. He can’t tell Phil that he’s blind and that everyone else can see the glint in his eye as he watches Phil throw his head back and laugh, or the way his tongue peeks through his teeth in a throaty chuckle. He can’t tell Phil he loves him, because what if Phil doesn’t love him back and any chance that Dan ever had at a friendship is shattered before his very eyes?

Phil knows Dan’s lying but he daren’t press further, instead he gets up and rummages in his suitcase, pulling out a bottle of cheap red wine and two glasses from the cupboard.

“Come on you.” Phil’s hand clutches Dan’s and pulls him up without much force, and Dan’s surprisingly willing to sit up.

“Why’re we having wine?” He rubs his eyes and wiggles his toes under his thighs as he sits cross-legged on the ivory duvet.

“Just because.” Phil pours two rather large glasses, careful not to stumble on the short trip back to the bed. “Cheers to no teaching for a whole week!” He raises his glass, scooting so his arm is flush with Dan’s.

“And to the ever impending deadline for reports and marking.” Phil can’t help but notice Dan’s eyes flicker hastily away from his.

-

“I hate the rain.” Dan scowls, and it’s half-true; he hates being outside in the rain. Phil offers a look of sympathy, granted that Dan hasn’t exactly been himself since last night and he’s determined to figure out what is troubling him. It’s hardly the right time, yet all Phil can think about doing is confessing to Dan but the ever-questioning voice in his head asking if Dan likes him back consumes all of Phil’s courage, until he’s left with butterflies and vanishing words as he tries to open his mouth.

“I guess it’s not winter without a bit of rain.” Dan nods but doesn’t reply, leaving Phil scratching his head as scenarios of why he’s acting so strange fill his thoughts. Any attempt to blanket the thick atmosphere with words is all soon abandoned and it seems even as if Louise has picked up on Dan’s sullen withdrawal.

“Dan why don’t you and Phil take half to Oxford street and we’ll tour the sights and then we’ll switch?” They nod, but Phil’s not so sure he wants to spend the rest of the day with Dan, who seems to have a collection of words ready on his tongue which his spits at anyone asking.

“So Oxford Street,” Phil booms from the front, Dan trailing behind the group of ten students and one joyful teacher. “Home to a million stores; go wild and don’t kill anyone and Mr. Howell and I will see you all back here at twelve.”

Dan almost flinches from Phil as he walks closer.

“You know, not sounding rude or anything but you’re not exactly yourself.” Dan hopes none of the students are left straggling behind as Phil inches closer.

“I’m fine.” It’s a sharp reply and not one Phil’s particularly hoping for.

“Dan.”

“I’m not a child Phil, don’t use that fucking tone.” Dan hates how his temper controls him. He hates how he just snapped at Phil without much thought or provoking - after all, Phil was just trying to offer a shoulder to lean on.

“You’re acting like one.” Phil’s hands are quick to snap to his mouth; thoughts rolling carelessly off his tongue.

Dan thinks he’s stupid for crying but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care because Phil’s arms are around his back and hand cups the back of his head and it’s not how teachers are supposed to behave on a school trip but they’re not just teachers - they’re best friends who love each other and Dan’s too proud to admit it and Phil’s too shy.

“You’ll hate me.” Dan sniffles, pulling back and wiping his eyes on the sleeves of his coat.

“I won’t hate you.” Phil assures, silently wishing they weren’t standing in the middle of Oxford Street having a “domestic” (he refrains from that word as they’re not exactly together) whilst the rain drenches them both. “Although I’d ask, can we perhaps do this under shelter? Or later in our room if you just want it to be me and you?” Dan nods, whispering “later” before he slips his hands in his pockets to warm them.

It seemed as if none of the students wanted to tour the sights of London after they’d shopped, so the group headed back to the hotel, Dan texting Louise of the teenagers enthusiasm.   
Phil told them to go to their rooms and watch tv or play on their computers, a suggestion which was happily obliged.

“Stairs?” Phil asks, opening the door to the staircase. Dan’s palms are sweaty and he realises that he has to tell Phil, and it seems every possible scenario is encompassing his thoughts.

“Y'know you could take the lift without me.” Dan studies the carpeted pattern on the stairs.

“Why would I do that? I enjoy your company.” He replies with a silent “oh”, before the number 20 is plastered in shiny metal on a door.   
“After you sir.” Phil chuckles, holding the door open for Dan who rolls his eyes and quickly walks to the room.

They resume their positions on the bed, Dan nearest the window and Phil the other side, but somehow there seems more space than usual.

“Do you er-” Phil swallows thickly before dipping his head, fiddling with the loose thread on his jumper. “Do you want to finish where we left off?” He daren’t look at Dan’s face for fear rejection would be imminent.

“Okay.” He sighs, not sure where to begin as his mind races at impossible speeds and all he wants to do is say the words which won’t fall out. “I like you.” Dan says in a small, hushed voice. He waits for the humiliation, shouts and taunts and the slam of the door as Phil leaves, but it never comes. Instead Phil pulls him closer, eyes meeting and Phil doesn’t think he’s seen Dan’s in this light before.

“You have the most beautiful eyes.” Phil brings a hand to Dan’s cheek, thumb stroking his rosy skin before he leans in, eyes asking silently for permission that Dan grants in the form of his fluttering closed. Dan’s lips are chapped as he presses them together but impossibly soft and warm and Phil’s all too quick to pull away, a silent whine escaping Dan’s lips.   
“I like you too, I always have.” Phil doesn’t wonder where they could’ve been if they’d have bitten the bullet, instead he gently pushes Dan on the pillows and captures his lips in a longer kiss, each time daring to pull away until Dan’s tongue slips in and Phil lets out a content sigh. It’s nothing but innocent and shy and perfectly sweet, and Dan tastes of bubble gum and cherries and Phil of honey and cinnamon.

-

He’s pulled out of clouded dreams, crossed-eyed and hugging the pillow which takes up Phil’s space. Dan raises his eyebrow, throwing back the covers as he hears Phil mumble something in the bathroom.

“Louise, please can you just talk with Arthur, PJ and Audrey and just say Dan and I are ill and can’t make it? Thank you so much.” He hears Phil chuckle before the doorknob turns.

“Hey Dan,” His voice is calm and soft and sings velvet symphonies in his ears. Dan mumbles a reply, laced with sleep as he flops back down, snuggling up to Phil as he lay beside him. “Good sleep?” He pushes back Dan’s chestnut fringe, gentle kiss pressed to his forehead. Dan nods, eyes flutter closed as his head rests on Phil’s chest.

“Why were y'talking t'Louise?” It comes out muffled by sleep and a heavy tongue and Phil can’t help giggle.

“I was going to try and get a day just for us, I want to take you on a date.” Dan’s arms wrap a little tighter around him at the words, letting an “oh” escape his lips, drunk on sleep and love. “We can by the way, and although it won’t exactly be the poshest restaurant-”

“Anything will be perfect.”

 

 

It’s as if the sky tries to dampen their emotions, grey and drizzly and all Dan can do is complain his hair will go curly.

“It looks perfect.” Phil’s hand guides it’s way to the small of Dan’s back. “You look perfect.” Dan scoffs, somehow still expecting Phil to be lying but he isn’t - of course he isn’t.

“You look okay yourself Lester.” Dan giggles as their fingers lace, walking down concrete stairs to the Underground.

It seems odd there’s no one around, Christmas shoppers few and far between and it seems lunch has been and gone.

“Where are we actually going?” Dan kisses the tip of Phil’s nose at the side of the tracks, hand pressed to his cheek as he squeezes Phil’s with the other.

“I thought I’d take you at least somewhere half-decent and I remember the pub my brother and I used to go to after concerts; pretty good and also not too expensive.” Phil chuckles, Dan rolling his eyes and he swears he hears him mumble, “is it too early to say I love you yet?” as the train approaches.

They manage to squeeze in two seats, against a woman on the phone and a man who seemed to have fallen asleep. It’s short, sharp and Dan frankly grateful the stop wasn’t more than five minutes, although any time with Phil in his mind is time worth spending.

“It’s just here.” Phil points to a typically English pub; thatched roof and cream walls with dark wooden windows with latches. “After you,” He hesitates before uttering the last words which paints a grin on Dan’s lips. “My love.”

“I’ll grab a table, you get the drinks? I’ll have a diet coke.” Phil nods, shrugging off his coat to hand to a giggling Dan before the brunet sets off in search of a table for two, tucked away from the burly men and laughing women.

“Two diet cokes please.” He nods to the question of any ice and hands the man a ten-pound note, receiving a few pounds change before he finds Dan and sits down.

“Thank you.” Dan takes a sip through his straw, lips curling into a dimpled smile as Phil raises his eyebrow.

“For?”

“This. Today. Just you and me with no kids or teachers or anything.” He places his hand over Phil’s, thumb rubbing soft, soothing patterns on his. “It’s all wonderful.”

“Even if we’re in a pub?” Phil chuckles, head thrown back as his tongue peeks through his teeth.

“Even if we’re in a pub.” Dan assures. “I think it’s a bit more us than five-star hotels don’t you think?” Phil nods; and even if the pub’s a little noisy, and not the perfect first date place, neither think it could be better.

They order lunch and Phil stifles a giggle as Dan moans, eyes rolling back in exaggeration as he takes a bite. They laugh and order drinks, Dan complaining how he can’t drink beer yet the atmosphere is perfect for it, and Phil reassuring that anything is perfectly perfect, because Dan is perfect. They catch a tube back to the hotel and their faces are hot with peppered kisses and fingers tangled in chestnut and ebony hair, stumbling and giggling as the fall onto the bed with Dan’s curling hair sprawled on the pillows and Phil’s fringe scooped back by Dan’s hand. It barely goes further than shirts heaped on the floor and kisses to chests and stomachs, and the press of Phil’s lips and tongue to his body quickly erases Dan’s once self-consciousness.

“Ever told you you’re beautiful?” It’s like Phil’s slurring his words out of intoxication, but the glass of wine is barely enough to cut it. Dan flushes pink, shaking his head and biting his lip. “You are.” Phil’s fingers run down his tanned chest, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. “You’re. Fucking. Gorgeous.” He mumbles between kisses, teeth clasping lips and tongues almost dancing in mouths.

“You are too.” Dan says in a hushed whisper as they pull away, breaths heavy and foreheads pressed together as hands slide together and fingers intertwine. “You’re perfect in every way Phil and-” There’s a moment of hesitation before Dan swallows. “And I love you.” He looks away, eyes anywhere but Phil’s until he feels their lips touch in a silent “I love you too”, and it never needs to be said, the simple action more than enough.

Phil rolls off of Dan, arm slug around his waist as Dan snuggles into the crook of his neck.

“D'you want to watch a movie?” Phil mumbles against Dan’s hair, pressing his lips softly atop his curls. Dan hums a reply, nodding as he shuffles impossibly closer. Phil grabs the remote, turning on the tv as a question stings the tip of his tongue.   
“Dan,” He starts, wary of the many firsts of this evening. “Would it be too early to perhaps ask you to be my boyfriend?”

Dan shakes his head, grin widening and Phil can’t help but poke his dimple, smiling back as he realises he can do that now.   
“Not too early at all.” He presses a kiss to wherever he can reach, the side of Phil’s jaw. “I’d love to.”

The movie is all but background noise as Phil hops up, grabs two glasses and pours the remainder of the bottle of red wine.   
“Cheers my love, to us.” Phil raises his glass, handing Dan his before they chink.

“To us.” Dan smiles as he takes a sip, wine sliding down his throat as they share a kiss.

The night draws to a close, limbs tangled as Dan falls asleep in Phil’s arms, Phil following shortly as Dan’s soft, steady breathing lulls him into a peaceful sleep.

-

The birds wake them, and it isn’t long before Dan realises the rest of the school have already gone back.

“We didn’t go back yesterday.” Dan mumbles sleepily.

“Paid for the room yesterday morning.” He yawns a reply. “Although we need to go back today.”

Dan nods, throwing back the covers before wiggling his toes in the soft carpet, savouring the moment before Phil rolls his eyes and giggles. He gets up, pulls his shirt over his head and throws it in his suitcase, clad in nothing but grey boxers.

“Stop staring at my arse!” Dan turns around with a smirk on his lips, facing a flushed faced Phil with downcast eyes.

“Not my fault it’s there, plus it’s not exactly an eyesore.” Dan walks over, fingers clasping his chin as he kisses his lips softly.

“You cheeky bugger.” His arms wrap around his waist, clasped together behind his back. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

 

 

Phil’s bed feels empty, after five nights of Dan’s arms wrapped around his waist and legs intertwined he doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep. His mind is consumed with Dan Dan Dan and it’s as if Dan’s a drug, an addiction which he can’t shift, but does he ever really want to? Phil’s good with words, yet the only words he can muster up are clichéd phrases and cheesy metaphors of messy kisses and fingers threading hair as if their kisses are oxygen and they just can’t fucking breathe.

The train ride consisted of heads rested on shoulders and hands held in laps and Phil aches to rewind the time.

To Dan:  
are you up? x

He’s not expecting a reply instantly, or one at all for that matter, surprised when it’s less than a minute before Dan responds.

From Dan:  
yeah, can’t sleep x

Phil smiles, knowing he’s not the only one who can’t sleep in an empty bed, having the taste of someone curled up beside and watching as dreams flicker in their eyes.

From Dan:  
i miss you, i’m lonely x

To Dan:  
is it too late for you to come over? x

He looks at the time, 12;45am and he’s expecting a declined invitation, instead he gets the response for which he hopes.

From Dan:  
should be but i can, i’ll be over in 10min if you want? x

To Dan:   
please x

It’s not before long when Dan pulls up outside Phil’s flat, knocking three times before Phil almost runs to the door, tripping over clothes on the floor and swings it open with much more force than intended - he blames it on sleep deprivation and the coffee, although it’s highly likely excitement from seeing Dan again yet he’d never admit it.

“Seems like we can barely be apart for more than five hours.” Dan giggles, shrugging off his coat before he hangs it next to Phil’s on a silver hook. Phil pouts before cupping Dan’s cheeks with both hands and lazily locking their lips.

“Not my fault I can’t sleep without you.” He almost sounds like a child, melting Dan’s heart just a little bit. He just about has time to kick off his shoes before Phil drags him to his room. “It’s late.” Phil throws back the covers and gets in, snuggling down as Dan pulls off his shirt and rids his jeans and socks, deciding Phil will provide more than enough warmth. He mirrors his boyfriend, resting his head on his bare chest before his finger absentmindedly traces circles along his arms and chest and stomach.

“This is better.” Dan hums, letting his eyes flutter shut as Phil watches with heavy eyes.

“Much.” Phil agrees in a whisper; hand combing Dan’s hair and he hardly has time to press a soft kiss to his forehead before he drifts off to sleep, wondering if tomorrow will have the same outcome.

-

Sunday. The birds drawl out a song which wakes Phil and no matter how much he shuffles (without waking Dan of course) he just can’t seem to drift back off. He feels slightly invasive watching Dan sleep, eyes fluttering under lids as dreams flash behind them. His mouth is slightly open, lips parted and breaths heavy as his arms are wrapped around Phil’s waist and tucked behind his own head. Phil fights the urge to push his fringe back with a feathered touch, instead he rests his head back on his green and blue and white pillow.

A few minutes pass before Dan stirs, eyes fluttering open as he groans a string of incoherent words and sentences, causing Phil’s lips to twitch into a smile.

“How long ’ve you been awake?” Phil giggles at Dan’s words heavily laced with sleep, rubbing his eyes before burying his head in the crook of Phil’s neck.

“Not long, didn’t want to wake you - you looked happy sleeping.” Phil’s hand toys with Dan’s hair, the brunet letting a content sigh tumble past his lips.

“It was weird not having you around. It was only for a few days but it just felt wrong.”

“You’re nice to cuddle, and kiss, and love.” Dan can’t help but giggle as Phil drawls out a “what?”, complete with a pout upon his lips.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“You can’t.” Dan protests.

“But I do.” Their kiss is lazy with sleep and un-brushed teeth but it’s more than enough.

It’s a lazy day in bed, neither wanting to leave each other so they settle for clichéd movies and microwave butter popcorn and tea. They’re wrapped in a blanket, Dan in one of Phil’s hoodies and a pair of his navy blue leggings, cuddled up as their eyes fall heavy before their mouths go dry and reach for the tea, realising it’s gone stone cold as hours trickled past as if they were raindrops running down a window pane.

“I’ll make another.” Phil presses a kiss to Dan’s temple, the brunet shaking his head before mumbling “microwave it” and snuggling back underneath the blankets with a fistful of popcorn to his lips. Phil nods, giggling as he takes the two mugs in one hand, and the popcorn bowl to refill in the other, walking to the kitchen and placing the periwinkle and lavender mugs in the microwave. He taps his feet as he pours out another bowl of popcorn, waiting for the few seconds to pass until he can put it in place of the mugs. It’s not long before he comes back to Dan, with two hot teas in hand and a bowl of popcorn precariously balanced under an arm.

“Oh my god Phil you should’ve asked me to help!” Dan jumps up, grabbing the popcorn bowl and setting it aside on the bedside table.

“It’s alright love, here’s your tea.” He presses a swift kiss to Dan’s lips as he passes him the warm drink, smiling as he sees the little pause sign in the left-hand corner of the tv.

“Paused it for you, you were watching it more than me anyways.” He giggles shyly, eyes diverting to his tea and cheeks turning a rosy pink.

“Oh really?” Phil smirks, shuffling closer to Dan and wrapping an arm around his waist. “What were you watching?”

“Shut up and watch the bloody film you dork.”

-

A few weeks pass, from Dan keeping the odd t-shirt and pair of jeans at Phil’s to having a full drawer and it’s as if they spend all of their time in Phil’s flat or in the staff room, huddled in a corner with heads rested on shoulders and smiles playing on pouted lips.

“How many more do you have to do?” Dan yawns, tapping away at his laptop for another set of reports due the following week.

“Twelve, you?”

“Twenty odd.” Dan kicks Phil’s shin as he giggles. “Don’t laugh, at least with English it’s a bit more black and white.” Phil agrees, he doesn’t particularly fancy writing hundreds of reports on painting (or drawing; Phil still isn’t quite sure of how one could ever attempt to teach Art, he’s always been told the perception is different whoever looks at it).

“Take a break, cuddle me.” Phil places his laptop on the floor by his feet, almost pushing Dan’s laptop off of his thighs and crawling on his lap.

“How can I cuddle you when you’re on my fucking lap?!” Dan throws his head back, a string of oh my god Phil’s and you nerd’s mixed with, in Phil’s mind, the most perfect, euphonious laughter.

“Da-an!” Phil pouts nuzzling into the crook of Dan’s neck and it couldn’t be more awkward as they’re both over six-feet tall and the fabric sofa isn’t exactly large my any means.

“Fine.” Dan rolls his eyes, pushing Phil off of him as he wraps his arms around him and pulls him close.

It’s nights like this which they love. In each other’s arms and the tv as white noise and it couldn’t be more perfect. Kisses and I love you’s and please stay’s fill the silence between them as papers and pens are sprawled across coffee tables and floors. 

 

 

“Would you ever want to move in with me?” Phil hums one evening, taking Dan’s hand in his own as they cuddle up on the fabric sofa. “Half of your stuff is here and I just thought it’d be practical, plus you’re here more often than not and I-”

“Is this an invitation?” Brown eyes turn to face Phil’s and in that moment it all seems to fall into place with Dan’s dimpled smile and stifled giggles and squeals.

“I suppose it is, would you want to move in with me?”

“You know I’d love to Phil, I’d absolutely love to.” It’s sealed with a wet, open-mouthed kiss on parted lips with fingers tangled up in hair and sliding under t-shirts, and for once in their lives they both don’t feel so alone.

Phil’s lips trail to Dan’s neck, soft and warm kisses before they cascade down his collarbone. It’s purely innocent and loving and Dan can’t help giggle as Phil’s lips touch his stomach once, twice and three times before fingers leave a cool trail of goose bumps along his waist and hips. Each freckle and imperfection is dotted with a kiss and all Dan can do is watch Phil with a dimpled smile as he loves every inch of him.

“Don’t poke my tummy it tickles!” Dan squirms, before Phil’s pins down his arms and his face is attacked in short and sweet peppered kisses.

-

“Is today the day?” Dan can’t stop his foot tapping on the car floor.

“Indeed it is. Whatever happens, I am proud of you and I love you, it’ll never change.” Phil squeezes Dan’s knee, as reassuring as he can be whilst driving. The brunet hums in response, placing his hand over Phil’s as the anxiety bubbles in his chest.

“I love you.” Dan managed in a whisper as Phil pulls up into the car park.

“I love you too.”

They tell the staff, in hopes the rumours would be laid to rest - and for the most part they are. There’s a constant hushed whisper amongst the students, giggles and asks of “are you two going to get married?”, with the reply of “I hope so”. It feels strange to hold hands, and the habit of pulling away as someone approaches is hard to break. They rarely kiss, but when they peck each other’s cheeks there’s always a chorus of aww’s behind them, staining cheeks pink and erupting a symphony of giggles. 

 

 

It’s a dreary Saturday morning when Dan hands the keys to his empty flat over to the sullen-faced estate agent; the once dingy place left untouched for months as Dan shuffled his belongings to their new apartment. It’s significantly larger than Phil’s, enough room for two large sofas in the lounge and a dining table in the kitchen, a stolen luxury they both lacked in their flats prior. It’s their home, personalised with plushies on bookshelves and house plants and constellations scattering walls and floors. Dan’s paintings hang in the hallway, each time Phil walks past he can’t help but smile at just how talented his boyfriend is, and just how proud of him he is.

It takes them a while to settle in, after months of being blind by love the arguments would roll off each other’s tongues, ending up with Dan slamming the door to their bedroom, hot tears cascading down both men’s cheeks. They’re all quickly resolved, and it’s on Christmas Day when Phil gets down on one knee, asking for Dan to be his, forever. Forever seem a long time, a scarily long time but by each other’s side they think they’ll be okay - of course they’ll be okay. There will always be a shoulder to lean on, arms to hold you when you’re sad and someone to say I love you.

“Daniel James Howell, do you take Philip Michael Lester to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Dan’s eyes meet Phil’s, brimming with tears as he says the words, “I do.”

“Do you, Philip Michael Lester, Take Daniel James Howell to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

“You may now kiss.” It’s sweet and salty from the flurry of tears streaming down both their cheeks and nothing could feel more perfect.

“I love you.” Dan’s voice is wobbly and he grips Phil’s hands impossibly tighter, knowing they’re bound for life and nothing could ever separate them.

“I love you too, I love you so much.” It’s whispered in Dan’s ear before Phil presses his lips once more to Dan’s before they walk hand-in-hand down the aisle, ducking as a sea of confetti is thrown over them and it sounds selfish, yet all they want to do is go home and spend the rest of their lives together with wine staining kisses and teeth marking chests and necks.

-

“What’s that Mr. Howell?” Alice asks, pointing to the platinum ring on his finger.

“I got married.” It still sounds a little foreign on Dan’s tongue, but it’s welcome with a warm smile which makes his heart flutter.

“Who to?” He rolls his eyes in response, chuckling as he takes it off, eyes tracing each cursive letter inscripted in the metal.

“Mr. Lester.”

“Does that mean you’re also Mr. Lester?” Dan shakes his head, 19.10.16 engraved into his ring with forever yours, Phil x. He slips it back on his finger, and he can’t say he’s gotten used to the feeling.

“Still Mr. Howell I’m afraid, and always will be.” The students don’t push with questions further, and Dan finds himself doodling Phil’s eyes and lips on a spare piece of printer paper. 

 

 

Phil begins tapping absentmindedly on the keys, waiting for his year ten’s to finish their timed coursework on ‘Love in Poetry’, after thirty minutes discussing why exactly a ring has appeared on his finger, and when did it all happen.

If I ever were alone the memories I withhold, they’re enough to keep me going until you ever decide to come back home or until I can return to your arms and kiss your lips once more.   
You’re a guiding light, shining in the darkest hour so bright it’s as if you’re the sun and the moon and the stars and darling, I’ll love you until the day I die and forever more. Until we’re nothing but stardust in galaxies framing Orion and Scorpius, and my heart is forever with yours and yours is safe with me to keep.

-

Dan paints an aqua stripe on Phil’s cheek, mumbling how he’s no other colour than perfect blue. Phil doesn’t quite understand, but instead dips his finger in a crimson pot and dots it on the tip of Dan’s nose. It’s a smear of blue on Phil’s lip, and a spot of red at the corner of Dan’s mouth which leave their lips tainted purple and it’s perhaps the stupidest cliché in hindsight, but they are a stupid cliché and neither would have it any other way.

They’re sat cross-legged on the floor, blue and red and purple dotted on their faces from where lips brushed cheeks and necks and the pads of fingers traced jaws and arms and it’s as if Phil is Dan’s favourite piece of art; as if Dan sculpted Phil out of galaxies and black holes and constellations in the night sky.

Their lips collide and Dan’s hand cups Phil’s cheek, tongues worming through parted mouths and through the barriers of teeth. He paints a smear of red to Phil’s cheek, before pulling away to dip his finger in honey-yellow to dot his forehead.

“You’re a masterpiece.” Dan’s voice is hoarse and hushed and it makes Phil swallow a gasp as Dan pushes him down, back softly hitting the carpet.   
Dan’s quick to rid Phil of his shirt, paint smudging on his buttons before he tosses it aside.   
“My masterpiece.” Each freckle on his arm a cluster of stars which Dan dares to kiss, and each mole on his waist a black hole ready for Dan to worship. He’s used to Phil showing him his beauty, yet Phil’s like the moon and it’s as if the stars light up his skin and galaxies fuel his eyes and the darkest parts of the universe painted his hair ebony.

The moon is the only light in the living room as paint covers their bodies and lips press in between the nebulae on their skin. Soft whimpers and begs for release under stars and it feels right as they lay beside each other, breaths unsteady and fingers feather-light tracing bruised skin.

It’s a love, they think, which will carry on until their minds fade and their hands can’t hold a paintbrush or lips recite a poem. Until they’re old and frail and sat in armchairs as clichés tumble from thin lips which smiles grace. A love which they can only share, not a soul could ever dare to dream of a love which comes close to the one which all but consumes them; a forever which lasts until the last star blows out like a candle atop the fireplace. It’s perfect, just like the rain is to a flower and the moon is to the sun, Dan is to Phil and Phil is to Dan.


End file.
